Two Flies in the Ointment
by Cairn Rennin
Summary: Two people from Earth get stuck in FF8 land. Actually this is quite crap, you shouldn't really bother reading it. It'll really be a waste of your time. This is my first attempt at humour and will probably be my last.


# Two Flies in the Ointment

People often end up where they should not be. What happens then is very often tragic but sometimes funny, although those who are there do not generally think so.

Two specks of white moved across the Martian surface. They moved from a larger dot behind them, the rocket from which the two small blobs had emerged. The two men bounded across the surface, protected from the vacuum around them by the suits they wore. The two men looked out from behind their visors at what lay before them.  
"Jesus fucking Christ, Ross. That's _big_."  
"That's bigger than my alimony payments." The two men stared up at the mountain in front of them, stretching off towards the stars.  
"Yeah, and almost as big as your ex-wife's arse." Another moment of silence, the two men still looking up at the sight in front of them. "That lump of rock is seventeen miles high, Ross."  
"And we've gotta climb it," Ross finished for the Briton. Mount Olympus pierced the ground, rising majestically into the air. "If it's any consolation, Mars' gravity is less than 40% of Earth's." This was greeted with a swivel of the Briton's head, and a moment of silence.  
"Oh, well that's okay then. Just a stroll through the fucking park, ain't it? I can't believe that they want us to climb this. The pen-pushers back at NASA haven't got a clue, have they?" Ross agreed readily, taking in the form of Mount Olympus, or rather the small part that he could see.  
"Maybe we could hitch a ride up there?" Another look from Stephen and this time a shake of the head.  
"You what? Sure, we'll just ask the next passing alien, shall we? 'Excuse me, little green bloke, but can we ride in your saucer please?' What have you been smoking, Ross?"  
"Nothing at all."  
"Maybe you should start. Some of those weird ideas might be forced out of your skull, you know, like when you smoke out…"  
"Yeah I know. I'm not stupid, you know. Anyway, what I meant was couldn't we get out ship to take us to the top? It's easily got enough fuel, they said so at Houston."  
"And you believed them? I never listen to anything those people tell me. It's generally wrong anyway. Like 'there will be no delays to the launch.' Twelve days later, and we were still waiting. To be quite honest, I'm glad to be shot of them. If I have to listen to one more arrogant American git who thinks that just because he's seen a map of Mars he thinks he knows more than us about Mars-walking… They really get on my nerves, I just want to grab one of their fat-laden necks and squeeze until the vertebrae in their fucking necks snap, one by one."  
"You really ought to vent your frustrations doing something productive, Steve, something that doesn't involve strangling people."  
"I personally think that wringing a few of the bastards' necks might straighten the lot of them out. A couple of emergency tracheotomies with bamboo sticks later and we may see a marked improvement in their attitude towards us lowly astronauts."  
"All right, they are a bit annoying some of the time, but I don't think that killing a few of them would get you a raise from the Director."  
"You ever heard of 'field promotions' Ross?"  
"Touché." The two astronauts trudged along the red surface, negotiating the rocks that lay strewn about the ground like clothes in a teenager's bedroom. Ross kicked a few of them around idly, watching as they rolled down the slope of the mountain. "What's that?" Ross pointed to a small white mark on the surface about a hundred yards away.  
"Hope it's a moon buggy." Ross glanced over at him questioningly. "I can hope, can't I?" The two men bounded off in the general direction of the white mark, which was slowly growing in their eyes. They still couldn't make out what it was until they were almost upon it. "It's some kind of light, but you can't see it very well because of the lack of an atmosphere to speak of."  
"So speaks Mr. Fucking encyclopaedia. The question I want to ask is 'where is light coming from on this planet?' "  
"Exactly, answers on a postcard." Ross raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The Briton carried on, not seeing the eyebrow under twelve pounds of helmet. "Maybe if we scrape away some of the dirt we can get a look."  
"Err, Steve, do you know what you are doing? There are only three things that cause light: the Sun, glow-worms and man-made things. We can eliminate the first one for obvious reasons, and I can't see how glow-worms would get on Mars. That leaves…" But Stephen wasn't listening as he pushed away gravel and small stones with the black gloves of his space suit. More light streamed through the hole in the surface. "What the hell is it?"  
"What makes you think I know? I'm not omniscient you know. I can't seem to find any end to this light or any surface where the hole is." The light intensified, and seemed to envelop the two of them, bathing them in pure, white light. The voice on his radio cut through the sensations.  
"This is fucking weird. I vote we get out of here _right_ now. All in favour say 'aye'." He waited for a response from the American, but got only static from the radio. "I've got a _really_ bad feeling about this." Stephen could see nothing but light now; it blinded his eyes. He felt a little faint and started to drop to the ground. As his face hit the ground, he noticed the barest shade of green.  
The light seared through their minds until they could bear it no longer. Both men let out a terrible scream, which ended as abruptly as the light. A glance at each other showed a silent conversation passing between the two of them. "Okay, we're in a forest. How many forests are there on Mars, Steve?"  
"Obviously one, Ross."  
"I'm going to hazard a guess that we're not on Mars. What do you think?"  
"No shit, Sherlock. You ought to apply to Scotland Yard, they could do with someone of your deductive skills. We're either back on Earth, which is entirely possible, given that we've just been thrown across space like some kind of interplanetary piece of rubbish, or we're on another planet that isn't Earth. Much as I want to go for Option One, I have a feeling that, when I look at the rest of day's events, we've probably gone rather for Option Two. Neither option really fills me with excitement, although Option One would mean I'd have been able to see the West Ham-Chelsea game on the television."  
"I want to be on Earth as well, the Clippers are playing the Lakers today. Or at least we could be back in the ship, they were going to beam it in. Anyway, let's go and find out where we are, shall we?" Stephen made to take off his helmet until Ross grabbed his arms.  
"How do you know there's oxygen out there? If this is Earth then by all means take it off, but if these plants breathe sulphuric acid then you might want to rethink that."  
"So you mean we've got to walk around the Forest of bloody Arden looking like a couple of twats because you think these plants breathe battery acid? Fuck this." Stephen yanked off his helmet in one move, and took a deep breath. He sank to his knees clutching his throat, then fell flat on the floor unmoving.  
"Stephen!" Ross knelt down and turned over the body, to be greeted by the laughing face of Stephen.  
"You are _so_ easy. Maybe I should write 'gullible' across your forehead." Ross removed his helmet, and gulped in the air, thankful for the fresh atmosphere after spending hours in the suit breathing recycled air. Space suits make you sweat buckets of water.  
Both men unzipped their suits, stepping out of them after a few seconds. Both stood in their orange overalls with NASA emblazoned on the chest. "Pick a direction, any direction." Ross pointed in a direction. "Good choice, sir. Let's go shall we."

Squall signed the last form. _I really hate Cid for this_. After Ultimecia had been defeated, Cid had taken the opportunity to off-load some (most) of his work onto his new Commander who took it with only a 'whatever'. He shuffled the papers and made for the door to his office. _I've got to deliver these personally to the mayor of Balamb now_. Zell had taken that exact moment to run down the corridor and Squall and all of his neat and tidy pile of papers went flying into the air. "Sorry, man."  
"Whatever." Squall gathered up his papers and left without another word. _We've got to do something about Squall's attitude. I'll talk to Selphie, she's constantly happy. Maybe I can get some of it to rub off on Squall._ Zell picked himself up and sped off down a corridor in search of the midget girl.  
Squall entered the parking lot with a frown pressed into his forehead. "You'll get wrinkles, Squall. That would really mess up that pretty face of yours." Rinoa smiled sweetly as she got out of the car. Squall stopped mid-stride. He was rather hoping for some time alone on the drive to Balamb but with Rinoa around peace and quiet were very unlikely. "Where are you going?"  
_'Whatever' doesn't work, she doesn't even hear it and gets even more annoying. If I don't tell her, she'll harass me over and over again until I give in._ "To Balamb, and you can't come. Official business, you see." Rinoa looked crestfallen. _Thank you Hyne_. Squall tried to run past her but Rinoa was too fast.  
"When are you coming back?" she asked, smiling in precisely the way that made Squall shudder with dread. Rinoa was okay, but she was just a little like a limpet.  
"I don't know. I'll come and see you when I come back." _Yeah right, like I will._ Squall ducked past her and jumped into the nearest car, slamming into reverse and letting out the clutch as fast as he dared. The car shot backward almost colliding with a pillar. Rinoa snapped her fingers in frustration. _I almost had him cornered. Why can't he just give up?_

"I wonder if there's a MacDonalds nearby?"  
"Yeah, I could murder a Big Mac. But I could do with seeing civilisation of any sort. Hello! Anyone here? We could be in the middle of nowhere and we would be none the wiser. In front of us are trees, behind us trees, no prizes for guessing what's to the side of us."  
"Even a Burger King."  
"I think that perhaps we ought to find something to eat like berries or something. Maybe some leaves or tree bark. If we can't find anyone to talk to then we need to find somewhere to sleep as well."  
"I'd settle for a Pizza Hut…"  
"Will you _please_ shut up about food? Can you see a fucking Pizza Hut? Climb up a tree and look for a bar. You'll get to shout 'I can see the pub from here' to me."  
"What the hell are you talking about, Steve?"  
"It's a line from a Castlemaine…oh forget it. We'll just carry on walking in silence until we find some sign of occupation, like a road."  
"Yeah, but what are the chances of that…Steve?" Ross turned to find that Stephen had stopped walking, and was pointing towards the horizon. "What are you pointing at? Oh, I see. It's a road." He stopped for a second. "A ROAD! Roads are made by people! There are people here!"  
"…Amply demonstrating that razor-sharp deductive reasoning of yours again. Roads have not only a 'from' but a 'to'. Therefore, there must be some sort of civilisation on either end of this road."  
"You want some kind of prize for that piece of logic? Let's just make it to the road first. I want to find out just where we are." The two men jogged towards the road, at least until a ten-foot wide insect came flying towards them. "What the FUCK is that?"  
"That is one pissed-off giant gnat, Ross. He's obviously pissed off at us for some reason."  
"I didn't mean to swat its brother, honest."  
"I don't think it cares. You know adrenaline is a fight or flight response? I think we ought to take the latter option."  
"You mean…" Stephen nodded. "RUN!"

Squall pushed down hard on the accelerator, blasting through a hundred mph. Trees flashed by in a mess of green sludge. A few marks appeared in the distance, and they were moving onto the road. "SHIT!" Squall smashed his foot on the brake. Trails of smoke and the screech of tyres flowed from behind the car, which slowed to a halt a few feet from the running pair. Squall looked to see from what they were running and saw a Bite Bug gently floating along. "Civilians," Squall noted with disdain. He grabbed his gunblade from the passenger seat and exited the car. Blade held aloft Squall sped off towards the monster. He brought the blade down in a scything motion, ripping the Bite Bug into two. Green blood coated the gunblade, which Squall wiped off with a cloth he brought with him specially for the job. _It can't do to have entrails all over your weapon._ He straightened himself up and turned to face the two fleeing figures, now gasping for air.  
"Why were you in the forest? You should know it is dangerous to travel through them."  
"Yeah, we're okay. Thanks for asking." Sarcasm dripped from Stephen's voice. Ross decided that Steve would probably get the pair of them decapitated more than anything else and tried to handle the conversation.  
"Thanks for saving us. We got lost and didn't even see the creature until it was about to kill us. Sorry if we caused you any trouble."  
"Whatever." Squall made to leave, but Ross interrupted him.  
"I'm very sorry about this, but could you please tell us where we are." Squall looked at the two men quizzically.  
"Balamb." _Well, duh. Balamb's an island. I think you'd notice if you left it._  
"Which country is that in?" Squall looked positively scared now.  
"It's in…" He hesitated. "It's in Balamb." Stephen decided to speak up.  
"Listen, mate. There are over two hundred countries in the world, and not one of them is called 'Balamb'. Now you tell us where…oh." A realisation fell over Stephen's face. He turned to Ross. "I think we are in trouble. You know we wanted a MacDonalds'? I don't think that even the almighty MacDonalds Arches can stretch to another solar system."  
"Gee, you think? Listen, I'm sorry what is your name?"  
"My name is Squall." The two men stared at him in surprise, then burst out laughing. Squall slowly gripped his gunblade and the pair stopped.  
"Mr. Beaufort would be proud. I'm sorry but what kind of a name is Squall? That's a momentary increase in wind, not a person's name. Your parents must have really hated you. Maybe they wanted a girl or something. Maybe they were smoking crack at the time. There are a hundred reasons, although none of them sane."  
"Whatever." Squall made to leave again but Ross needed something else.  
"Listen, this may sound very silly, but I believe that the two of us are actually from another planet and have been stranded here by some kind of interstellar wormhole." Squall remained impassive. "You don't seem all that surprised. I am, and I know it's true!"  
"Weird shit happens here."

Squall had finally agreed to take the two men to Balamb Garden while they tried to sort out exactly just what had happened. The two men looked through the windows of the car at their new surroundings, passing them by at a fair speed. The road curved to the left, and the pair of men leaned forward in their seats as Balamb Garden loomed over the horizon, its majestic form proudly piercing through the sky. "What the fuck is that?"  
"That is Balamb Garden. Your temporary home." The car moved closer and the men got a clearer view of their accommodation. The car puled up in front of the gate and Squall opened the door. The two men followed, staring at the giant, golden ring. "It moves below the Garden when it is airborne?"  
"_¿Qué?_ This thing flies? Shit, that's more surprising than the Battle of Agincourt." Ross took a glance at his companion on a foreign planet.  
"Fuck me, you are such a weird bastard, Stephen. Sometimes I wonder whether you're really human." Squall coughed a few times and Stephen turned back to face him.  
"We shall go and see the Headmaster; he will decide whether you can stay here and for how long."  
As the three men walked down the hall of Garden, Stephen leant in to talk to Ross. "This'll be good. This Squall bloke is strange, really introvert. If this Headmaster is the same, then it could just be that everyone on this planet is a wan…yes what do you want?" Squall had turned to face the two men.  
"The Headmaster will see you, he is through that door." Squall pointed at the lift (elevator) doors. "Just press the 3F button and the lift will take you to his office." The two men entered the lift and Steve looked at the row of buttons.  
"Don't you have ground floors here?"  
"Whatever." Steve shrugged and pressed the button. The lift doors closed, and the two of them were alone.  
"By the way, it's Admiral."  
"What?" Ross asked with a questioning look.  
"Admiral Sir Francis Beaufort." Ross looked at the Briton for a few seconds, and then shook his head in amazement. The two stood in silence. A few moments later the doors opened and the two men stepped through the doorway into the Headmaster's office. The Headmaster turned to face them.  
"Ah, I have been told of your arrival. My name is…" Ross cut him off.  
"Don't tell me. Anticyclone, occluded front perhaps?"  
"Cid."  
"Figures."

This is really crap, isn't it? Well, I started writing it thinking that it may turn out well but these things happen.

[Cairn Rennin][1]

   [1]: davcrav@cwcom.net



End file.
